


father to (step)son

by foreversummer



Category: Falsettos - Lapine/Finn
Genre: Jason comes out to Whizzer, M/M, Whizzer/Jason friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-16
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-09-17 23:21:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9350762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foreversummer/pseuds/foreversummer
Summary: based off an anonymous ask i received on falsettosheadcanons because i would very much like what anon offers at the end: "When Jason realizes he's gay the first person he talks to is whizzer. He's scared that people will think he's confused just because his dad is gay. So one night he sneaks into Marvin and whizzers apartment scaring the shit out of whizzer. They find a 24 hour convenience store, get ice cream, and talk all night. (If anyone wanted to write a full thing about this I'd give you $5 and all my love)"





	

It’s 1:36 a.m. and Whizzer Brown hears footsteps in his apartment. They’re not Marvin’s - he’s snoring softly with an arm draped over Whizzer’s waist. And they don’t carry with them the noticeable click-clack of their sheltie’s paws. They’re definitely human footsteps, and Whizzer is definitely terrified. Slowly, he slides out of bed, his heart beating so hard he thinks the intruder might be able to hear it. He swallows hard and inches toward the door, stepping as lightly as he can. Whizzer hears the footsteps getting closer, and he frantically looks around for something he can fight with, something sharp, something heavy-- and then there’s a soft knock on the door.

“Whizzer?” A voice whispers. “Whizzer, it’s Jason. Are you awake?” 

The tension begins to drain from Whizzer’s shoulders as he sighs and opens the door to reveal his slightly rumpled stepson. Whizzer rubs a hand over his face and whispers back, “Hi, Jason. Marvin’s sleeping, so...” He puts his index finger to his lips, then closes the door as quietly as possible leads Jason into the kitchen.

“Jesus Christ - I mean, my God, I thought you were a serial killer or something,” Whizzer says, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “How did you even get here?” 

“Took a taxi, then used the hidden spare key that you showed me,” Jason shrugs. “Don’t worry, I put it back afterwards.”

“You came here all by yourself?!” Whizzer exclaims. “I hate to sound like such a parent, but you’re a fourteen-year-old kid, you should not be traveling around New York City alone in the middle of the night! Do your mom and Mendel even know you’re here?”

“I left a note. And I wouldn’t normally do something like that” - Whizzer crosses his arms and stares him down - “okay fine, I won’t do anything like that ever again, but this was kind of an emergency.”

Whizzer uncrosses his arms and leans against the counter, brow furrowing in concern. “What’s up, kiddo?”

Jason shifts uncomfortably, rubbing his hands and picking at his fingers absently.

“Hey,” Whizzer says, sitting down at the kitchen table and pulling out another chair so Jason can do the same, “you know you can tell me anything, right?”

Jason nods and sits down so they’re almost at eye level with each other, but he avoids making eye contact with Whizzer. 

“It’s just - this is something I’ve known for a while and I’ve never told anybody before and I know you won’t react badly or anything but it’s just hard to tell someone something you’ve kept a secret for so long. And - and telling someone makes it so much more real but a lot of the time I don’t want it to be real. Do you get that?” 

Whizzer nods in understanding but doesn’t say anything so that Jason can continue.

“I, um - well, there’s no easy way to say this, so I guess I’m just gonna say it.” Jason takes a deep breath, holds it, then says in a rush - “I, uh, I like boys. The same way that you do.”

Jason is obviously a nervous wreck, tugging anxiously at his clothes and breathing a little too quickly, but Whizzer has rarely been prouder of him.

“Jason,” he begins, taking his hand and squeezing it, “I am so, so grateful that you told me. I know how much courage this must have taken, and I promise to do everything I can to help you with anything you need.”

“You - you don’t think I’m just confused because… well, because Marvin’s my dad and I spend so much time with you and Cordelia and Charlotte?”

“No,” Whizzer laughs, “no way. You can’t become gay from the people you hang around with, you just know it and it’s who you are. And I promise, one day you will learn to love it.”

Jason looks down and sniffs once, then smiles a little. “You’re smart.”

“No, I’m just older than you,” Whizzer says, standing up. “Now give me a hug and let’s go get some ice cream.”

Jason stands up and throws his arms around Whizzer, muttering a muffled “thank you” into his shirt. Whizzer hugs him back and ruffles his hair, the same soft brown waves and curls as his father’s. 

Whizzer sneaks back into his bedroom to grab sweatpants and a hoodie, and he slides on tennis shoes before leading Jason out of the apartment and gently closing the door behind him. Whizzer zips up Marvin’s red hoodie, which is soft and worn and smells like him.

“I can’t believe I’m going to be seen in public like this,” Whizzer says, gesturing to his bedhead and flannel sweatpants.

“It’s like two a.m., no one’s awake except the people who are too drunk to tell if you’re in pajamas or a tuxedo,” Jason tells him, rolling his eyes.

“Fair point,” Whizzer says with a wry smile. 

When Whizzer starts the car, he winces at the engine’s loud sputtering noises, worried that he’ll wake up everyone on the block. Even though it’s New York City, they live in a pretty quiet part of town. Soon, he and Jason are driving smoothly along deserted streets, looking for the bright neon lights of a 24-hour store. When an uncomfortable silence begins to blanket the car, Whizzer asks, “so… do you, um, have any questions or anything?”

Jason, who’s been trying as hard as possible to forget what he just told Whizzer, lets out a long breath and shrugs. “I guess I just don’t know what to do. Like… about any of this.”

“Well,” Whizzer begins. “You don’t have to tell anyone you don’t want to. I promise I won’t tell your dad or anyone else. And I know high school can feel really lonely and isolating, but there are other kids like you there, so if you can find them, that would probably help a lot. But in the meantime, just know that your dad and Charlotte and Cordelia and I - and your mom and Mendel too, even though they won’t completely understand everything - are one hundred percent here for you and know what you’re going through.” 

“Thanks. I know I can trust you guys,” Jason says quietly as they pull into the parking lot of a convenience store. They are an odd pair to be walking into a 7-Eleven at two a.m. - Whizzer, who still looks like he just rolled out of bed, appears too young to be Jason’s father and too old to be his brother or friend.

“What’s your favorite flavor of ice cream?” Whizzer asks, squinting at all the tubs of Ben & Jerry’s.

“Chocolate caramel,” Jason responds, then amends his statement - “wait, chocolate chip. Wait, actually, can we get both?”

Whizzer smiles at him and opens the freezer. “Of course.” 

They get their Ben & Jerry’s (along with some weird looks from the guy behind the counter, who’s probably wondering why someone would need a couple pints of ice cream so urgently in the middle of the night), and Whizzer drives around a few more blocks before stopping in the parking lot of a nearby shopping center. They sit in silence for a few minutes, swapping cartons after every few bites.

“Whizzer,” Jason begins. “Am I going to get that disease because I’m gay?”

Whizzer freezes and looks at his stepson, face falling. “No, Jason, no way. I mean, you have to be really careful, the same as everyone, but no, you’re not going to get sick.”

“I’m so, so sorry you have to grow up during this time,” Whizzer goes on. “It’s awful. Not only are so many people dying, but we’ve got the conservatives saying it’s God’s punishment for being gay, and that dimwit Reagan won’t even acknowledge that there’s a literal plague in this country. I know you’ve heard all that before because I never stop ranting about it, but still.” He shakes his head and sticks his spoon upright into the ice cream before turning to the boy next to him.

“Jason,” he says. “You have to know that it’s not true. God purposefully made you the way you are and he loves you for it. This will end one day and we will both be alive to see it. And you’re more than welcome to come with me and your dad and Cordelia and Charlotte to the rallies and meetings that help doctors get the funding they need.”

Jason nods several times. “I definitely want to do what I can to help.” 

“Thank you,” Whizzer says sincerely. “And if anyone at school tries to out you or makes fun of you for it - because unfortunately, kids can pick up some mean things from their parents - just say that you’re supporting the people you care about.” 

“Okay,” Jason responds. “Yeah, the kids at school like you guys. Mostly because Cordelia always gives me tons of extra food to share and Marvin gives me a bunch of junk food that I end up sharing too, but still.” 

Whizzer laughs and they turn their attention back to their ice cream.

“How did you know?” Jason asks.

“What, that I was gay?” 

Jason nods in affirmation.

“In sixth grade, there was this boy, Joey Wilson,” Whizzer tells him. “And I knew I wanted to hold his hand and kiss him, the same way my mom and dad did with each other. And I thought that wasn’t right, so I didn’t tell anyone for a long time and I definitely didn’t act on it, even though I felt that way about more and more boys I met throughout middle school and high school.”

“Did you ever tell your parents?”

“I did, right before I went off to college.” Whizzer pauses a moment. “They said they never wanted to hear from me again and that they were glad I was going to college so far away from home. I’ve never been back to Michigan since then.” He shrugs and stabs at his ice cream with his spoon. “So of course I’m very glad I ended up with you all. You’re a whole lot better than my biological family ever was.”

“I’m so sorry,” Jason says. “I had no idea.”

“Yeah, I don’t usually talk about it, but it’s okay. What I’ve learned, though, and what you need to know, is that if someone doesn’t accept you and treat you right for who you are, drop them. Life doesn’t always just hand you the perfect friend group or the perfect family, but if you look around a bit, you can find them.”

“I used to hate my parents,” says Jason. “I used to wish every day that I could just run off and live with some other family. And I hated how even though I tried so hard not to, I was - and still am - so much like my dad. Which is part of why I still hate that I’m gay.”

“But you’re all the best parts of both your parents and more,” Whizzer tells him. “Who you love is just who you love, not who you are.” 

Jason’s quiet for a moment. “I hope I can believe that some day.”

“You will,” Whizzer says. “I promise.”

They talk and drive and eat their weight in ice cream until the sky turns baby pink and the birds begin their lively little songs. Whizzer pulls into his and Marvin’s driveway, and the sound of their tires on the asphalt cuts through the still morning air. Whizzer yawns as he unlocks the door, and once inside, they take off their shoes so as to not wake Marvin with their footsteps.

“I think I’m gonna go back to sleep for a couple hours, do you wanna crash in your room?” Whizzer whispers.

Jason nods and they walk softly to the bedroom across from Marvin and Whizzer’s. Whizzer fluffs the pillows then straightens up, expecting Jason to fall tiredly onto his bed. Instead he is surprised by Jason’s arms wrapping tightly around his waist. Whizzer hugs back and kisses his mop of curls.

“I love you, kiddo. I promise I’ll always be here for you, whatever you need.” Whizzer rubs his back and Jason returns, “Love you too, dad.” 

Jason pulls away and climbs onto the bed as Whizzer lifts his eyebrows in happy surprise. “‘Dad,’ huh?”

“Dad number two of three, but dad nonetheless,” Jason says with a sly smile, getting comfortable under the blankets.

Whizzer laughs a little and turns towards the doorway, flicking off the light in Jason’s room. “Goodnight, Jason - or, good morning, I guess.”

“Goodnight, Whizzer.” 

Whizzer looks at his adorable stepson one more time, so small under all that hair and all those blankets, before closing the door behind him, making his way into his own bedroom, and quietly sliding back into bed. Marvin stirs beside him and Whizzer winces, hoping he won’t wake up. But Marvin rolls over, opens his eyes enough to make out Whizzer’s face in the darkness, and mumbles, “what’s going on?”

“Nothing to worry about. Go back to sleep,” Whizzer tells him, kissing him on the nose and giving him a small smile.

“Mmmkay,” Marvin smiles back before turning over again so Whizzer can cuddle up behind him and interlace their fingers on Marvin’s chest. Marvin exhales deeply and settles back into Whizzer and the mattress, squeezing his fingers gently before relaxing completely. Whizzer lets his mind wander, reflecting on the last few hours. Five years ago he would’ve scoffed at the notion of domestic life, much less fatherhood. But as he lies there and thinks about the man in his arms and the boy asleep in the room over and the women next door and the couple across town, he realizes there’s nowhere he’d rather be and no one else he’d rather call his family. He knows Jason will turn out alright, because even though the adults in his life have all had more than their fair share of fumbles and missteps, they’ll figure everything out. They always do.


End file.
